


Happy Birthday, if that's okay...

by cedarrapidsgirl



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 23:24:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarrapidsgirl/pseuds/cedarrapidsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy doesn't like to celebrate his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, if that's okay...

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for vixys and mijan, cause today is their birthdays, and they listen to me ramble, and because they are so cool, I wrote Kirk/McCoy fic for them. And that takes a lot for me lately, as my brain has been pulled over to the _Enterprise_ fandom, and it currently lives most of the time on the NX-01. I'm surprised that I could get this out on a kinda deadline. McCoy doesn't like to celebrate his birthday. I don't know why, maybe the ex was too crazy during that time sometimes, who knows. At any rate, he don't care for it in the least. This is written in the 5+1 verse, but I didn't get it from any prompt anywhere. And I don't want to start any arguments about McCoy's age, so here's my math. According to Memory Alpha, McCoy was born in 2227, and the year of the Narada incident was 2258, which would make Bones 31. So 3 years earlier, when he joined Starfleet, he was 28. That's my math, and I'm sticking to it. This story went a little strange, and some parts are longer than others, but, oh well. Grumpy!Bones is Grumpy. I made the ex a super-bitch in this story. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I just realized a huge canon error, but it's late and I'm tired and don't want to fix it now. So yeah.

5 times Leonard McCoy ignored his birthday, and the one time he won't ever forget it.

 **1.**

Dr. Leonard McCoy sat at his desk at Georgia Regional Hospital, going through his charts, and sipping what was at least the 3rd cup of coffee this shift, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

“Hey, Doc.” McCoy looked up and saw his colleague Michael Tucker leaning up against the door of the office, looking tired. “Some shift, huh? Bet you're looking forward to heading home to the little lady soon, right?” Tucker smiled,

“Hmph.” McCoy snorted into his coffee cup. "Yeah, some shift. But I ain't going home anytime soon, I only got a few more minutes of a break before I go on duty for second shift." He went back to reading.

Tucker looked at McCoy incredulously. "You working a double? You're crazy, man. Have fun, I'm getting out of here while I still can. Have a good night." Tucker straightened up, and waved as he left. McCoy nodded, still lost in his work.

After Tucker left, McCoy looked at his watch. 2:10 p.m. Normally he'd be able to head home now. But not today. He'd left the house by 5 am to be at the hospital by 6, and picked up an extra shift on purpose. So now he'd be off at 10 pm, and could easily spend two hours working on paperwork 'til midnight, then it wouldn't be today anymore, it'd be tomorrow. He sighed and got up from the desk. Time to start the next shift.

 **2.**

Leonard McCoy was at home, on the front porch, drinking. He was alone, the wife off at the country club, playing tennis, or so she said, relaxing after a long day of shopping, also "so she said". McCoy might be more inclined to believe her story if her tennis racket wasn't still sitting in the foyer closet.

He tried to work today, as usual, but some moron figured out earlier in the week that Doctor McCoy's birthday was on Friday, and that he'd worked on his birthday the last two years, and said,"Go ahead, McCoy, take the day off. You deserve it." No amount of persuasion would make anyone trade shifts. Amazing, everyone wanted to work what they were scheduled. Like that ever happened with a bunch of overworked doctors. They were all conspiring against him, that was for damn sure. So that is how he wound up sitting at home, alone, drinking bourbon and getting thoroughly soused on his birthday.

The wife didn't come home that night. Leonard didn't really care.

 **3.**

It had been a long evening the night before, and if what he saw before him was any indication, it was going to be a long damn day too. The shuttle that was before him in the middle of _freakin'_ nowhere, Iowa, didn't look like it was going to make it to the Nebraska line, never mind San Francisco. But he didn't have anywhere else to go, so in he went. After being escorted oh-so-kindly by the _kid_ , cause really, that's what she was, and man, McCoy wished he had an extra hypo of something for that little snot, he found himself next to another kid. Oh, yeah. This was an _excellent idea, McCoy, just EXCELLENT._

"I may throw up on you." He said to the kid next to him. Not real suave, but McCoy didn't really give a tinker's damn about suave right then, or much of anything else for that matter. He just wanted to get this damn flight over with, the sooner the better. But the kid, who introduced himself later as Jim Kirk, didn't look too phased. Anyone that would even respond to such an introduction and not want to suggest admission to the Starfleet psych ward upon arrival at their destination had to have some guts, or be half crazy himself.

Okay, so he didn't throw up on the kid, but he still felt like death warmed over (and he _had_ seen death warmed over, it wasn't pretty) when he stumbled off the shuttle and into the bright sunshine in San Francisco. Drinking the rest of the bourbon in his flask with Jim Kirk didn't probably help his current condition, either.

McCoy made it to the table on the Academy lawn marked "New Medical Students" and pulled up a chair. Another young cadet chirped, "Welcome to Starfleet, here's some paperwork you'll need to fill out to get you started." McCoy fought off the urge to deck him in the face, and started on the PADDs. Wasn't there ever an end to paperwork, well, computer work, now, really? He was a doctor, damn it, not a writer. As the information he submitted started going into the Starfleet database, Mr. Chirpy said, "Well, sir, it looks like a 'Happy Birthday' is in order." McCoy just stared for a minute, thought for another minute, and realized that today was his 28th birthday. He'd damn near forgotten. Not like he really wanted the reminder.

"Thanks, like I needed to be reminded that I've got t-shirts older than most of these kids." He submitted the last of his paperwork, got a PADD with some information regarding room information, orientation, and all that new student nonsense, and headed off to find his dorm.

"Bones! There you are! I've been looking all over for you! Let's go get settled in!" McCoy jumped about 3 feet in the air as Jim Kirk slapped him on the shoulder. McCoy rolled his eyes for what he was sure would be the first time of many and thanked his lucky stars that Kirk had not overheard or mentioned the dreaded birthday. He's sure that the kid would want to go out and celebrate, and McCoy would rather not celebrate at all, or at the very least, would want to just drink by himself.

 **4.**

Two years later, for his 30th birthday, McCoy REALLY wanted to be left alone. Not like he didn't want to be left alone every year on his birthday, for this milestone birthday he did not want to be bothered. At all. Starfleet Medical hadn't figured out or didn't care about McCoy's 'working your ass off on your birthday so you don't think about it' plan. So McCoy did what he used to do nor so many years before. Volunteered for a double shift, so he'd be up to his eyeballs in work. Then he couldn't dwell on the fact that he was 30, for God's sake, and in two years he'd probably be up flying through space in some tin can held together by bubble gum and bailing wire.

Doctor McCoy sat down at a table in the hospital with some PADDs. It was now 10:13 p.m, and while he was technically off duty, he still wanted to finish up some charts. He also knew it wouldn't be too much longer until Jim came looking for him.

Unlikely as it may seem, Doctor Leonard McCoy and Cadet Jim Kirk became friends during the first couple weeks at the Academy, best friends over the next couple months, and they had somehow moved onto being lovers about 9 months ago. Normally McCoy might have been freaked at getting into a halfway committed relationship with _anyone_ , because look how well it turned out the _last_ time, let alone Jim Kirk, son of the heroic George Kirk, Jim Kirk, boy genius and all around crazy SOB. But somehow, it just fit, it just worked, it just...felt right. They complemented each other, somehow. Even with all the crazy mixed up messes that both of them were, for some reason, they just got each other. McCoy gave up trying to understand it. He just held on tight and went along for the wild ride that was Jim Kirk.

He knew that Jim knew it was his birthday. He also knew that Jim knew he didn't want any celebrations, parties, cards, or even a mention of the day when it came. McCoy had made it clear that he didn't like to celebrate his birthday, and after some snapping, arguing, shouting, glares, and some _really hot_ make up sex, Jim promised not to mention McCoy's birthday this year.

As if on cue, Jim Kirk came bounding in a couple minutes later. How exactly he made it past the front desk, and any security, to find McCoy hiding in the Doctor's Lounge was anyone's guess, but he was Jim Kirk. He was good at who he was.

"Hey, Bones, there you are. You about done here? I haven't seen you all day." Jim sat down next to McCoy, drumming his fingers on the table when the Doctor didn't respond right away. "C'mon, you can't spend all night in here, you've been here all day. Let's go get something to eat."

McCoy sighed and got up, bringing the PADD with him. He could argue, but sometimes, there really wasn't any point. Not with Jim Kirk, anyway. So he went with Jim, and let him lead him back their room so they could order pizza and drink beer til early o' clock. There was no mention of the day.

 **5.**

The next year, when McCoy's birthday rolled around, He really didn't remember it until the next day. To be fair, he was a little busy. Busy, you know, getting called to the _Enterprise_ , smuggling his boyfriend, well, best friend on board, getting promoted on duty, losing Jim, fighting with Spock, getting Jim back, watching said boyfriend save the whole damn planet, and being in surgery for too many hours trying to make sure Captain Pike could MAYBE walk again. So, yeah, McCoy wasn't exactly thinking about what day it was, until Jim came up behind him and moved up against him, just resting his head on McCoy's shoulder. McCoy took a deep breath and let the weight of everything fall away for a while, anyway, pulling Jim's arms around his own waist, and they both stood there, leaning on each other for support. Finally Jim broke the silence with a rough chuckle. "I guess 'Happy Birthday Bones' doesn't really apply, does it," he said, not lifting his head from McCoy's neck. McCoy lifted his head off of Jim's shoulder, for a minute, eyes wide in realization. "No, Jim, I don't think it does," Then he laid his head back down, closed his eyes, and for a little while longer, it was just him and Jim, and everything was okay.

 **And the one time...**

Three years later, Doctor McCoy was standing on the deck of the villa, staring out at the stars. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn't turn to look. McCoy felt Jim's arms wrapped around his waist and Jim's head on his shoulder again. After a few minutes, Jim spoke. "Hey, you left the party. Are you okay?"

McCoy smiled at Jim's concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a few minutes of quiet, is all. Those people down there are crazy. You just HAD to throw a wedding party while we're on shore leave on Risa, of all places."

McCoy could feel Jim grinning into his neck. "Of course I did, baby," kissing it gently. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to make my crew happy. And especially you." Jim took his hands and entwined them with McCoy's so that the new silver bands on their left ring fingers were touching. "So can I finally say it, Bones?" McCoy just looked at Jim, slightly confused. "All these years we've been together, I've never been able to say 'happy birthday' to you without expecting a hypospray in return. I wanted for us to get married on this day so you'd finally have something to be happy about on this day." McCoy just smiled back at Jim, 'cause he was getting choked up. God, he loved that man. Jim grinned back at him and moved in front of him, letting McCoy wrap him in a hug. He gave the doctor a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered "Happy Birthday, Bones," their foreheads touching. They stayed that way for a few minutes, and then Jim pulled away with a smirk. "C'mon, Bones, the honeymoon's gonna start now. We don't want to leave Risa without experiencing what this 'pleasure planet' has to offer now, do we?"

McCoy rolled his eyes, but there was a grin on his face instead of the usual scowl, and he let Jim lead him by the hand into the bedroom. He knew they wouldn't be seeing any more of Risa than they already had.


End file.
